


Cytoplasm

by RemainingQuestions



Series: Organic Systemic [2]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Gen, warning for fainting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22565593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemainingQuestions/pseuds/RemainingQuestions
Summary: The work is never done, not really. That it's fun doesn't mean it isn't, also, work.Some things become evident. Some things should never have been hidden.
Series: Organic Systemic [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623637
Comments: 5
Kudos: 58





	Cytoplasm

The next time the masks call he recognised it. Recognised the itching, the draw. 

Still, he doesn’t know what to prepare, how to prepare. Last time, without his helmet, was hard. 

Would this time be even longer? Would he even be able to endure it if it was? 

He hangs out with Cub that day, who seems to understand his nerves. His excitement. 

When they finally call, Cub’s mask slips on easily, but his doesn’t, over his helmet. 

“Take it off, X, put it on your  _ face _ .” Cub’s voice is higher, and there’s an undertone that resonates within X’s bones, now. 

The helmet makes a smooth hissing noise as the latches let go. X takes his last full breath, and puts the Vex mask on his face. 

His breath hitches and not just because of the lack of oxygen. The power within him surges joyfully, and he can’t help the escaping giggles. 

The blocks get pulled out, and the three work easily in sync, only stopping to eat cake placed on Vex magic and X feels  _ alive _ in a way he never had before, in a way he knows he never will, without this mask. 

They go and go and X keeps up, his breath wheezing and lagging, but the magic keeps him up, keeps him going. 

He can breathe, in a way, if he just  _ wears the mask _ and isn’t that just such a purely delightful gift? 

He builds, his lungs wheeze, and it’s glorious. 

_ It’s glorious _ . 

He never wants to take his mask off again. 

Eventually, the cake runs out. 

His arms are shaking. 

His lungs burn. 

By God, his lungs burn. 

But Scar takes his mask off, and Cub follows suit. 

They look at him, and it’s odd, knowing that they are also Vex, but without their proper mask while he  _ is _ wearing his. He has to take it off, now. 

He has to take his mask off now. 

His hands tremble as he finds the gap between skin and mask. Shakily, he breathes in. And pulls the mask off. 

He gasps, and the breath falls short, as does the next, and the next. 

Cub and Scar are laughing tiredly, but Xisuma doesn’t join in, can’t catch a breath to spend on laughter. He gasps, trying desperately to get some amount of oxygen into his lungs as his vision grays on the edges. 

He stumbles after them, his legs shaking. 

He takes a hollow breath that does nothing to fill his burning lungs. 

He takes another stumbling step, another hollow breath. 

Was it always this bad, after just a day without his helmet? 

He tries not to pay attention to the gray on the edge of his vision, or how he can’t seem to focus on the two men in front of him. 

He stumbles, tries to take another breath. His knees buckle. 

His vision grays, and pure black creeps in from the edges. 

“Xisuma?” The voice came from so far away. 

He gasps, but his lungs don’t stop burning. His arms don’t stop shaking. 

“Xisuma!” 

He feels his arm, the only thing still keeping him up, buckle. 

His vision pinpricks, and the ground rushes up to meet him. 

At the last moment, he sees the blurry worried faces of his fellow Vex. 


End file.
